


Glutted

by unsettled



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Belly Bulges, Bodily Fluids, Bottom Tony Stark, Come Inflation, Established Relationship, Kinktober, M/M, Marathon Sex, Mild Humiliation, POV Tony Stark, Unrealistic Sex, idk how if there are even terms for what i want to tag?, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: There are certain advantages to Peter being able to come and come and come andcome.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 316
Collections: Unsettled's Kinktober 2020





	Glutted

It's so easy when Peter pushes into him again, so easy and slow and wet. "God, Tony," Peter whispers. "You're so soft, so hot."

So stretched out, Tony thinks, so used and fucked out that even with nothing in it, his ass is probably still gaping wide open. "Sloppy," he mumbles as Peter rocks into him, sloppy enough that he can feel some come leaking out around Peter's cock.

"That too," Peter agrees, and he sounds a little dazed again.

Tony can still help a little right now, grinding back onto Peter's cock and tightening around it as Peter fucks him. He stopped coming himself—what, four rounds ago? At least—but he couldn't care less, perfectly content to let Peter keep going like this, as long as he wants. As long as they both want.

It aches just a little as Peter thrusts, but all it does it make Tony spread his legs further apart, sink into it. Focus on that and nothing else, on Peter's cock, how it feels bigger, thicker now that Tony's a little swollen. Focus on the wetness of it, the sound of it as Peter speeds up, noisy and squelching and messy.

Focus on the feel of Peter coming, shoved in as far as he can go, yet another ridiculously large load deep inside Tony. They'd measured it, after the first time Tony saw Peter come and got to tell him that no, most people did not shoot off that much at a time.

That'd been fun.

Peter sighs, slipping out of him, and Tony echoes him when he feels the blunt head of the plug pressing back in. Sighs again when Peter rolls him over, tucks Tony up along his front and kisses his neck, nuzzling in and settling there, sleepy.

*

Peter's kissing him, soft kisses that trail up his cheek, to the edge of his jaw. It's almost not enough to pull Tony out of his half asleep daze, but it at least starts to. "Thirsty?" Peter asks. He must have gone off for another refuel.

Tony shakes his head. "I'm fine," he mumbles. "Just—"

"Full?" Peter finishes for him, grinning.

"Not enough."

"Fuck, Tony," Peter says. "I don't know— we've been doing this a while."

"You're out?" Tony asks.

"No." Peter shakes his. "No, not even close," and Tony groans.

"Then yes," Tony says, closing his eyes again. "Yes, more."

Peter slides down behind him, his hand spreading over the curve of Tony's ass, exposing him. Stays there, rubbing and kneading as Tony hears Peter start up again, hears the wet sound of Peter's hand on his cock. He'd stopped fucking Tony a couple rounds back; Tony would have let him, but Peter had snapped at him, finally. 'I want to fill you up,' he'd said, 'not fuck you raw.'

Little late for that to be completely true, but Tony doesn't mind a bit.

Peter moans, pressing his face against Tony's back, and his hand slides down, brushing over the plug and pushing it in more, making Tony groan before Peter pulls it out. Tony tries, but there's still a little rush of fluid trickling down his leg; Peter catches it with his thumb and smears it across Tony's hole, pushing it back in. Pushing his cock in too, just the head, leaving it there and jacking off faster, his hand bumping up against Tony's ass. It's incredibly hot like this, Peter not even fucking him, like Tony's nothing but a vessel for his come.

Maybe he can't come, can't even get hard at this point, but it doesn't make him feel less turned on as Peter comes inside him again, even easier to feel this shallow. Doesn't keep him from wanting to come when Peter stays there, just like that, breathing deeply against Tony's skin until he's hard again, getting off in Tony again without ever moving from that very spot. Doesn't stop him from fucking whimpering when Peter pulls out and shoves the plug back in, fast, before any more can escape.

Doesn't mean he doesn't want more.

*

Peter comes in his mouth the next couple of times, takes advantage of Tony's exhaustion, the way he can barely hold his head up at all, to fuck deep into his throat, harder and faster than he'd been fucking Tony's ass the last few times. It's all the same in the end, Tony thinks as he swallows and swallows and swallows, swallows until he starts to feel almost sick, his stomach roiling. He pulls off Peter's cock the second Peter's come, before he can start up again; "Wait," he rasps.

"What's wrong?" Peter says, dropping down next to him.

"Just— too much at once," Tony says, swallowing hard, eyes closed. "Ugh, I feel gross."

"That's cause you are gross," Peter says, so kind, and kisses his cheek. "Think sitting up will help?" Tony shrugs, but when Peter hauls him up, propped up against Peter's chest, even if his ass hurts more like this, he does feel a little better. 

And a lot more full.

Peter's hands drift down, settling over Tony’s stomach. Touching it, ever so lightly, slowly smoothing over the slight swell of it. Tony shudders, turning his face into Peter's neck, and Peter moans. "Tony," he whispers, "Tony, Tony, _ fuck." _

He's rocking against Tony, rubbing his dick along the cleft of Tony's ass; "Don't waste it," Tony tells him.

"Fuck," Peter mutters, "can't— still? More, still?"

"Yeah," Tony says. "More, baby. Wanna feel it. Want you to feel it."

"I can," Peter says, pressing his fingers into Tony's stomach.

"More," Tony says.

*

He loses track of time somewhere in there. He lost track of how many times Peter's come ages ago, but he couldn't tell you now if it's midday or night or morning again. Couldn't tell you if it's been an hour, or half, or ten minutes since Peter last came in him.

Can't move even, can't think, can't take much more. Peter's taken care of him, such good care of him, so the only reason he's uncomfortable is because of what's in him. Is because he's so full, swollen and filled to near bursting with Peter's come, Peter who can keep coming and coming and coming until even Tony is finally satisfied.

He's so swollen that his stomach—his whole abdomen—hurts. Aches, the skin feeling like it's stretched too tight, even the slightest pressure on it nearly painful. It's better when he's on his side, curled around it, but Peter's got him stretched out on his back, the swell of his body obvious like this. Huge, like this. Tender, Peter's touch almost too much as he strokes over the curve of it, slow and gentle, mesmerized. He leans in and kisses just above Tony's belly button, so softly, and Tony groans.

Groans again as Peter kisses lower, scatters kisses all over his skin, stretched tight by the sheer ridiculous, insane amount of Peter's come trapped in him.

"Peter," Tony whispers, reaching for his head. "Peter, baby, I can't."

All along, it's been Peter asking, Peter checking so carefully if Tony still wants more, if it's too much, are you sure Tony, are you sure. It's been Peter, so Tony doesn't even understand at first, the way Peter looks at him, like he's drunk, and doesn't say 'okay'.

Says instead, "One more, Tony. Please? Just one more."

"Peter, I can't," Tony says, even the thought of one more drop of come in him making him want to cry.

Peter kisses the side of his bulge, carefully. Looks up at him through his eyelashes. "Please," he says. "Just one more. For me."

Tony whimpers, but he doesn't protest again when Peter crawls down and hooks his arms under Tony's legs. Doesn't beg Peter not to when Peter pulls the plug out, slow, careful, replacing it with the head of his cock immediately.

Doesn't look away from Peter's gaze when Peter starts fucking him, for real, like he hasn't in hours, every nerve in Tony's ass sore and aching, even as loose as he is. Fucks him hard, fast, pushing Tony's legs up further and leaning forward over him, and it hurts, not just Peter's cock pounding into him, but the extra pressure on his stomach, the way it's so swollen Peter has to lean hard on it to kiss him— and does, even as Tony squirms and gasps. He'd be leaking if it wasn't for Peter's cock plugging him up, and he can't do anything except lie here and take it, can't want anything but to lie here and take it.

One more, Peter had said, one more for him, and even if Tony doesn't think he can bear one more, he still wants it.

Gets it, Peter gasping above him and stilling, cock throbbing in Tony's ass. He pulls out, slowly, lowering Tony's legs and smoothing his hand over the bulge of Tony's stomach, soothing this time as the pressure is relieved somewhat. Tony clenches down as Peter's cock slides out of him; the head pops out with an obscene wet noise, and Tony's trying but he's too loose to keep everything in. "No," he whispers as he feels thick drops start to slide down his ass, "Peter, the plug, come on, quick."

"No," Peter says, leaning up and kissing him, Tony trembling as he tries to keep it all in. "So much, Tony," Peter murmurs. "So fucking much, so full, god Tony, look at you."

"Peter," Tony pleads, because he's losing the battle here. "I'm going to—"

"Shhh," Peter says. "I know," and then his hand is on Tony's stomach, flattened out and pressing down so hard; Tony yelps, trying to jerk away, and the sudden movement does him in.

"Oh fuck," Tony says as he feels it, "fuck, no!" but it's useless, there's no going back. No stopping the flood of come that rushes out of him, all over the bed and his legs and his ass, thick and wet and utterly humiliating. No stopping it, especially not with Peter leaning over him, pressing down on his stomach, rubbing it as it empties and pushing lower, forcing out every last drop he can.

Peter's staring down between Tony's legs, eyes wide, and Tony wants to curl up and hide; he'd thought having Peter help him the toilet and then leaving would be embarrassing enough, but this— this— 

"Oh my god, Tony," Peter breathes out. "That was— that was all in you, that was all— fuck, I can't believe you could hold that. I can't— oh my _ god," _ and then he's folding over, hand still low on Tony's abdomen, burying his face in the new hollow of Tony's stomach, nuzzling into it.

That— was not the reaction he'd expected.

Tony brings his hand to the back of Peter's head, threading his fingers through his hair; Peter turns his face until he can look at Tony, still pressed against Tony's belly. "I'm losing my mind," Peter says. "That was so hot I can't even think, okay?"

"Yeah," Tony says, and it's all too much as well, all way too much. "Me too, kid."

He feels like he could pass out, he's so worn down, so completely used up. Peter blinks at him, trying to burrow into him even further, and then freezes.

Looks at Tony, a grin slowly stretching across his face, and yeah, Tony heard it too. "Are you hungry?" Peter asks, incredulously.

"Well," Tony says. "I'm not full anymore."


End file.
